


LIBRARY4)F CONGRESS. 
— ?3 3 o 3 ) 

Chap. Copyright No. 



Shell 



-T^Pr 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



K ■ \ ■■: ■:, 



^i^./^^^ 



.VI. 



OTHER BOOKS 

BY 

Ed Porter Thompson. 

History of the Orphan Brigade. 

Young People's 

History of Kentucky. 

(Just Published.) 

The Haunted Man. 
(A poem, in press.) 




<( * * * 7//- 



Which tempted me to break my faith 
And ivander in forbidden path:' 



The PRIEST'S Temptation 



ED PORTER THOMPSON 



^ ILLUSTRATED BY B. H. PARK 

( PEB HISS-? ,1 

I,OUISVIIvI.K '^ 'I *X / - C 

X,EWis N. Thompson & Co. I » 

1897 



^'S 



EJntered according to Act of Congress, in the 

year 1897, by 

IvEwis N. Thompson, 

In the Ofl&ce of the I^ibrarianof Congress, at 

Washington. 




INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 



The following poem has lain for years among 
the manuscripts of the author, and it was with 
some reluctance that he at last consented for us 
to put it in print. We think the story will be 
found of general interest, and that it will meet 
with especial favor from those earnest and 
thoughtful readers who 

" * * * ponder man's estate, 

"His deeds in life, his future fate." 

Thk Pubi^ishers. 



" And he said unto me, These are they which came out 
of great tribulation. * * * For it became Him, for 
whom are all things and by whom are all things, to 
make perfect * * * through sufferings." 



PROEM. 



■ Through sujf' ring perfect:'' stern decree! 

It frights the coward heart of many- 
Till he from carnal mind is free 

His blessing seems a ban. 
And ''whom God loves'" — O high estate! 
''He chasteneth him;'' His fires are lighted 
To burn the dross that lies htnate, 

To rouse the soul that rests benis^hted. 
Thou, sacred mi7iistry of pain, 
By thee high Pisgah'stop we gain; 
O ministry of sorrow, lo! 
Through thee our angels come and go 
With messages of love and trtdh — 
From struggle, streyigth; and joy from ruth. 
To that pure light that shall abide 
We rise by something crticified. 



I. 



YOUTH'S OBSTINATE QUESTIONINGS. 

' What does it mean ? My God! my God! 

This weary round of nights and days ? 
The path that yesterday I trod 

I take again ; always 
Like Sysiphus I roll a stone 

From waking hour till hour for sleep, 
And when I sleep it turns upon 

Its track, and bounds adown the steep. 



14 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

Man's labor yields him food and drink, 
But much it irks my soul to think 
That these are all, or chief. Is Man 
Foredoomed in the eternal plan 
From day of birth to day of dying 
To grasp at,things unsatisfying ? 
My life doth mock me ! I am fain 
To quit its nothingness and pain. 

*'What — Pleasure? Oh! I've drained her cup, 

But ev'ry draught has made me rue 
The hour when I was led to sup 

Her poisoned chalice ; few 
Kscape her toils — a Siren, she, 

Even great Ulysses fell her prey, 
And lingered long ; but soon for me 

Her charm is lost — I spurn her sway. 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 15 

Ambition ? What has he to give? 
I note his votaries — they do live 
As in a fever, and when, reaching 
Their goal, they learn too late the teaching 
Of him, the wise Judean king — 
* All, all is vanity ' — they fling 
Unprized the costly guerdon by — 
They've learned not or to live or die. 

"But what avails my sore complaining ? 

It brings me nought of rest and hope ; 
The captive at his fetters straining 

Cannot his prison ope. 
The best of men — what comes to them 

To compensate for ills they bear ? 
In silent thought do they contemn 

Their lives of mean, corroding care ? 



16 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

Hard by there liveth one, I note 

Who seemeth blest, whose words men quote 

As teaching that mankind may still 

Find Earth an Eden if they will — 

The good priest of the Sacred Heart : 

The hours of eve he sets apart 

Once weekly, for converse with those 

Who ask for truth, who seek repose. 

*' I'll go to him, of whom men say 
' He walks with Jesus.' Can I fail 
To get some light upon my way 

From one who, through this vale 
Where others wander all perplexed 
Hath ever face that seems aglow 
With charm to soothe a spirit vexed? " 
This purpose formed, and musing so, 



A"'t 




' * * * The while, the time beguiling, 

Upon the hearth did burn 
A eheerful fire. ***" 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 17 

He sought the man of God, to whom 
He spoke of weariness and gloom, 
And questioned of the dark decrees 
Of fate and circumstance ; in these 
He saw nor love nor wisdom ; life 
Was but unsatisfying strife : 
"What meaning hath it father? Me 
Instruct ; for this I come to thee." 

To whom the priest, benignant smiling,. 

And yet with air of deep concern, 
Replied ; the while, the time beguiling. 

Upon the hearth did burn 
A cheerful fire. Flame-shadows danced 

Upon the walls where, roundabout 
Some sacred emblems hung and'tranced 

The waiting guest ; and chill without 



18 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

The autumn wind sighed through the trees. 

Books, statuary, things to please 

And edify, were gathered there ; 

Some noble pictures, old and rare, 

I^ed back the thought o'er thousand years 

Of human struggle, hopes and fears — 

Half-awed, attentive, Robert heard 

The father's earnest, helpful word : — 

Unrest? be said — a blessed state 

For one who will not yield the fight ; 
It leads to struggle with dark fate — 

It leads at last to light. 
"The soul is dead that slumbers ; " ease 

Is fatal to a spirit made 
To toil, to suffer, thus to seize 

The prizes set. For each is laid 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 19 

Some task to do, some height to win 
Before the man can enter in 
The realm of real light and joy. 
Pain hath no pow'r so to destroy 
The best in us as soft content, 
For that corrodes which lies unspent. 
For thee — thy doubts and restlessness 
Are harbingers of happiness. 

To what, thou askest, to what end 

Is life, that one should wish to live ? 
Oh ! thou must learn thy knee to bend, 

And glad ascription give, 
For God is Love and God is Good — 

This truth received, the way is clear : 
Though all things be not understood. 

We feel no more or doubt or fear 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

That duty, high or humble, done 
Hath other meaning than the one 
That links it with our daily bread. 
Or how we shall be clothed and fed. 
We gladly serve, and, serving, grow 
Strong in the inner man ; we know 
That e'en in darkness, grief and pain 
The faithful soul may find some gain. 

Think not of happiness ; the glory 

Of time, of cycling ages, that 
Comes never thus ; all song and story 

So teach— 'tis God's fiat. 
The warrior sees that danger lies, 

And pain and death, along the path 
That he must tread ; but in him rise 

High thoughts of duty, and he hath 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 21 

A sense of how sublime is daring, 

Defying, overcoming, bearing 

One's self above the soft delights 

To which a life of ease invites. 
**His life, who loseth for my sake 

Shall find it " — thus the Master spake ; 

And though this mean e'en sore travail., 
" Blessed is he that shall prevail." 

But we may choose a noble course, 

One hallowed by a sacred aim. 
To find at last that light and force 

By fiery trial came. 
Yea; never is the highest found 

By paths of ease ; fightings without, 
Fightings within, — when these abound 

The earnest soul may conquer doubt. 



5 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

May rise above seductive sin, 
And set some glorious prize to win. 
Peace comes at length, and restful state. 
The calm of strength, the lessened weight 
Of harmful care. Perhaps 'twere well 
A story of my life to tell — 
Therein thou mays't some lesson find 
To light, to guide, a restless mind. 



II 



11. 

THE OLD PRIEST'S STORY. 



I pass my early years — a state 

That still is pristine Paradise 
To child upon whose steps do wait 

The loving and the wise — 
A tender father brave and true, 

A mother strong in woman's strength 
Of heart and piety. I grew 

To man's estate, and left at length 



36 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

That home so dear, and nevermore 
It was a home to me ; before 
A year was passed, my loved ones died— 
Oh woe ! that this should me betide 
As I was wandering far ! Long time 
I roamed in many a foreign clime ; 
But schools and travel done at last, 
My fortunes with the church I cast. 

It was my mother's wish, and when 

She died, I pondered what she taught 
The state, the destiny of men, 

I viewed in solemn thought : 
The Spirit of the Highest, (lo ! 

I speak of this with bowed head, 
And trembling tongue), it moved me so 

I could not 'scape the way it led ! 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 27 

Yet there were times when Jonah's mood 
Came on me, and my soul did brood 
O'er fancied ills that I must meet : 
I longed to find some safe retreat 
From pow'r that overshadowed me — 
But whither could the tempted flee ? 
Ambition fired my youthful brain 
Some height of power, some fame to gain. 

But though I thus rebellious grew. 

And days of darkness, days of sadness, 
Unwonted, marked my way, I knew 

At last the sacred gladness 
That comes to him whose soul doth rest 

Submissive to th' Eternal will, 
And ev'n when I would fain divest 

Myself of sense oppressive, still 



8 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

Where worshippers were gathered, there 
My heart went out in yearning prayer 
For all my kind ; I seemed to see 
A pilgrim race on bended knee 
Imploring light, imploring strength 
To reach the land of rest at length ; 
»The organ's diapason ran, 
For me, through miseries of man. 

I took the vows ; my service then 

Was true in every formal rite ; 
My duties brought me pleasure when 

I did them with my might. 
But mayhap there was lack of zeal, 

And lack of that deep sympathy 
Which sufferers come at last to feel 

For every form of misery. 



IHE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

And mayhap God had weighed and found 
Me wanting strength that must abound 
In those predestined to essay 
Some hitherto untrodden way. 
My trial came — a fining fire 
That burned the dross of a desire 
Which tempted me to break my faith, 
And wander in forbidden path. 

A trembling penitent one morn 

Came for confession ; kneeling there 

I heard her sigh as one forlorn, 
I heard a trembling prayer ; 

And then she spake aloud and cried 

•' O niea culpa ! O my sin ! 

O Mother of The Crucified, 
Help, that I truly tell wherein 



30 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

My fault doth lie — how I have lost 
My innocence, my peace ! " She crossed 
Herself, then turned her eyes to me 
And said that it was perfidy 
To one who loved and trusted her 
That brought her hither filled with fear — 
Confused in thought and bowed in shame 
She begged for light in Jesus' name. 

She told how she had plighted troth 

To one whose life and worth were true ; 
He wooed her long, for she was loth 

To hear his plea ; she knew 
She could not love him ; but at last 

Tne thought of other came to tempt — 
Her father, deeply loved, was cast 

Upon her care; and now she dreamt 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

Of happiness for him ; her lover, 
With Love's quick sight, did soon discover 
This bent of heart ; it gave him cheer — 
His wealth was ample, he would share 
It gladly with her, that her sire 
Should know no want, if his desire 
She would but meet: he pleaded this — 
She yielded ; yes, she would be his. 

" I told my father," (thus she spake), 
" How could I be so lost to sense ! 
I hinted why I meant to take 

This man, without pretense 
Of joy therein — ot love for him. 

Then he, my sire — O noble heart ! 
The light upon his face grew dim, 

He made a sudden shrinking start : 



32 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

With an unutterable pain 

My words had stricken him ; I fain 

Would have recalled them ; but too late 

I saw the bosses of my fate 

That I had blindly rushed upon — 

The words were said, the hurt was done. 

A moment, and his startled air 

Gave way to look of blank despair. 

" I fled away to weep and pray — 

I could not bear to sit and see 
His agony, his sore dismay, 

His dark distrust of me. 
My conscience smote me when I thought 

Of his past life ; high aims ; pure mind ; 
An all-embracing love ; deeds wrought 

For God, his native land, his kind : 




1 fled away to weep and pray— ' 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 33 

How eretime by misfortune driv'n 
To debt and want he bad so striv'n 
That men at last proclaimed him just, 
And knew him true to every trust ; 
How wrong, bereavement, much distress 
Had wrought in him no bitterness — 
Through all he kept his faith in good, 
With tender heart and cheerful mood. 

But yet his trials were not o'er, 

For health was wrecked and strength was gone ; 
Our means were small, and since no more 

In paths where he had won 
An honored name and home for us 

Could he go forth, I took his cares, 
His burdens, now solicitous 

To soothe his sufferings, calm his fears, 



3i THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

That home should still to him be home, 

And ever in the days to come 

I be so cheery, helpful, true, 

That he his state should little rue. 

And God did bless me, and in me 

Him I so loved, and happily 

We lived, till Mammon's whisper found 

My heart and taught my tongue to wound. 

** 'Twas yesterday ; one bitter hour. 

In agony of tears and prayer, 
I cried for light, I cried for power 

My evil to repair. 
I saw my duty, but it led 

To cruel hurt of him who thought 
To make me wife : I would not wed. 

My purpose fixed, I straightway sought 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 35 

This man who claimed me for his own, 
And begged release. With stifled moan 
He turned away : * So be it, then,' 
With a strange voice he spake ; and when 
We parted so, I seemed to see 
Him darkly groping, seeking me ! 
By filial love to this I'm driven — 
But oh ! how can I be forgiven ? 

'' And then I sought my father's room. 

But at the door my course was stayed, 
I heard his footsteps go and come — 

I caught the words he said : 
'And she would sell herself for gold 

That I may rest, that I may live ! 
How dark my way ! the world grows cold, 

My soul now would I gladly give 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

Into the Maker's hand ! ' But now 
I pressed within, I yearned to show 
That I was free, that sense returning 
Had wrought in me the instant spurning 
Of such a union. Happy he 
To find that care and poverty 
Had not o'ercome. But O my vow ! 
For broken faith contrite I bow ! ' ' 

She wept for him whose hopes were dead ; 
** Oh ! pray for us who blindly stray — 
Pray that our footsteps may be led 

Into a perfect way ! ' ' 
She ceased ; I spake, but stammering spake, 

Such comfort as I could, and bade 
Her be of cheer, that I would make 

Due supplication, but I had 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 37 

That hour, O Robert, need of prayer, 
For the fair being kneeling there 
Had taken captive soul and sense 
Of me, to whom her penitence 
Was spoken ! When she rose to go 
Her veil fell off ; I did not know 
The face for I had lately come 
With this my charge to make my home. 

Why speak of form and feature ? Man 

Hath never speech to satisfy 
A hearer when he seeks to scan 

A woman's beauty ; I 
Of figure Hebe-like could tell ; 

Of eyes like Juno's ; of a face 
Like Dian's, glowing with its spell 

Of modest chastity and grace. 



i THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

But pass we that ; sufiBce to say- 
She looked a queen whose glance could sway 
The cold and stern ; her sadness now 
Blent with the light upon her brow 
That lambent played and softly shone. 
Transfixed I sat when she was gone 
Till the sacristan, passing spoke 
And me from this strange reverie woke. 

The heart hath ears ; but these are tuned 

To tones that come from those alone 
With whom perchance the soul communed 

In other sphere, who own 
A mystic kinship. When 

She spake I heard not as I hear 
The speech of others ; eager then 

My heart was list'ning ; the dull ear 



IHE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

That catches sound did seem to take 
No heed ; there was no need ; awake, 
I heard as one asleep and dreaming, 
When to the spirit comes the seeming 
Of chimes, of songs, from fairy land. 
As forth to meet that day's demand 
I went, I prayed in vain for power 
To break the witchery of that hour. 

I was enslaved : why need I tell 

To you, an ardent youth, how prone 
I was to yield to Love's sweet spell ? 

Some days I kept alone 
And wrestled with my thought. I saw 

The emblems of my priestly state 
With pain, as tokens of the law 

That was to keep me celibate. 



40 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

And when I saw her once again 
We had some speech, and I was fain 
To cry aloud and wrathful break 
My ordination bonds, and make 
A lover's suit to her. Restraint 
Of sacred vow provoked complaint 
That fate was cruel ; but I turned 
Away, nor shewed the fire that burned. 

The Phrygian king condemned to thirst — 

The limpid water aye receding 
Whene'er to quaff a draught he durst 

His lips incline ; the pleading 
Of hunger mocked by luscious fruit 

That hung within his reach, but swung 
Away from hand stretched in pursuit — 

Of him whom Attic poets sung, 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 41 

The sore tormented Tantalus, 

I mused by day and night, for thus 

I was athirst and starved of heart 

While she who seemed of life a part 

A-near me dwelt, and sometimes came 

To speak with me, to call my name, 

And when I longed to link her fate 

With mine, my conscience cried, " Too late ! " 

A year I strove to break the charm 

That overcame me ; but, despairing 
At last, I thought to 'scape the harm 

By absence, and, declaring 
To my Superior all my state 

I found a helper in my need ; 
He sought to save me from the fate 

Of the apostate who is led 



3 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

By his affections from the path 
To which his consecration hath 
So bound him ! I was sent away 
To foreign land, that I might stray 
' Mong other scenes and thus efface 
The image that usurped the place 
That was devote to thoughts austere, 
Self-sacrifice and life severe. 

My leave expired, I home returned. 

And was to other church assigned. 
That her for whom my heart had burned 

Mine eyes no more should find. 
My spirit humbled, I essayed 

To keep my breast a-quiet ; yet 
A mournful shadow round me played 

That would not let me all forget. 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. ^ 

In penance not alone, nor prayer 
I sought for peace ; my daily care 
Was now to find in labor rest. 
Obeying duty's stern behest 
I came to feel I might be free, 
Yet there were hours of poignancy, 
And days of loneliness that left 
Me weak as one of hope bereft. 

One dreary night I could not think, 

I could not work, I could not pray ; 
I seemed to near a fatal brink. 

And, startled, turned away. 
At last I pressed a feverish pillow. 

And wearied nature fell asleep, 
As sinks to rest the high-tossed billow, 

When storm is spent upon the deep ; 



44 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

But when in chime with midnight bell 
The watchman cried his " All-is- well ! " 
A beatific vision rose 
In my lone room ; my poor repose 
Was heightened to a warm delight : 
It was my love, her form benight 
As with a halo. Wondering, I 
Did greet her with a joyous cry. 

And then she said, *' I cannot rest," 
(There was a pathos in her tone); 
*' I wander forth with mind distressed, 
But should not go alone : 
Arise, and walk abroad with me — 

The stars that deck the deep-blue sky 
May have some occult potency 

To bring a blessing from on high." 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 45 

I rose in eager haste ; we went 

Into the silent street, and bent 

Our steps where she did point the way — 

I owned, I joyed to feel, her sway. 

My light it came not from the skies, 

But from those dear, those marvellous eyes — 

Eyes bright with that resplendent beam 

That from the stainless heart doth gleam. 

For me the world had lost its woe, 

There was no sin, there was no pain ; 
The star that, fitful, wandered so. 

Had found its path again ; 
My hungry heart was satisfied. 

For Psyche, Soul, she walked with me ; 
All thoughts, all things, were glorified — 

To know, to be, was ecstasy : 



46 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

Her voice was like the lute's low tone 
At that still hour when day is done ; 
I heeded little what she spake, 
I had no wish the charm to break, 
By word or sign. Thus on we passed — 
How far I know not — but at last 
She turned a mournful look on me. 
And sighed, then vanished utterly. 

■" Alone ! alone ! " my heart made moan, 

And it was lowering, pitchy night ; 
My guide was gone, but near me shone 

A strangely shifting light : 
It fell and waned, it rose and gleamed. 

Then took its zigzag course along — 
I'd walked in sleep, and sleeping dreamed, 

As lured by siren look and song ! 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 47 

Instead of bright, star-studded sky, 
A Stygian gloom dropped from on high ; 
But now I knew myself awake, 
In haste I moved to overtake 
The light ahead ; a step, and prone 
In dank morass my form was thrown : 
My wandering feet had found a fen — 
Wild, dismal, noxious, shunned of men ! 

And what was this that danced before, 

As though to lead my wanderings? 
It was the wild-fire gliding o'er 

This haunt of noisome things, — 
' Twas Jack-o'-Iyantern's baleful glimmer, 

That leads the nighted wretch afar. 
And dies at last with fitful shimmer. 

As quickly fades the fallen star. 



48 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

And leaves the victim lost and lorn 

To wait affrighted for the morn, 

Or in some pitfall plunge and die, 

Where none may hear, none heed, his cry. 

I rose in pain, I turned in dread, 

And with uncertain steps I sped 

Away from that unholy light. 

Into the black, forbidding night. 

I recked not of my course, except 

To keep that Will-o'-Wisp behind; 
With furtive backward glance I kept 

Right on ; my 'wildered mind 
Did fear the igiiis fatuus 

That it by evil power was lighted ; 
Borne down as by an incubus 

My blood was chill, my soul affrighted^; 



THE PRIEiiT'S TEMPTATION. 49 

And when, the gleam no more beholding, 
I paused to think, the gloom enfolding 
Was like the fabled shades of Dis, 
Where shapeless monsters writhe and hiss ; 
But me nor sight, nor sound did greet, 
l^or Silence here did Darkness meet — 
In wood and fen, on dale and hill. 
The voices of the night were still. 

Not ev'n the night-crow cawed or fluttered, 

Nor prowler's stealthy step was heard, 
No insect cry nor chirp was uttered. 

No breeze the foliage stirred ; 
Nor that strange sound, when all things sleep, 

As though the earth were breathing low, 
My ear could hear ; and then did creep 

O'er me a sense of utter woe. 



50 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

I turned me round and round, perchance 
There might, to meet my eager glance. 
Some " little candle's far- thrown beam " 
From sudden-opened casement gleam ; 
But no ! I crossed myself and cried 
" O Mater Dolorosa, guide ! " 
Then onward, scarcely hoping, pressed — 
My body faint, my soul distressed. 

Whither I wandered, or how far, 

I never knew ; I could not note 
Or course or distance ; brake and bar 

And field and wold and moat, 
I struggled o'er, I labored through. 

As one deprived of sight, and left. 
In tangled wild he never knew. 

To seek his home ; of strength bereft. 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 51 

Torn, bruised, begrimed with mire and clay, 

At break of day I made my way 

To my abode ; and there, like her 

In Gibeah, I fainted sheer, 

And headlong fell, my hands upon 

The threshold. Passers-by anon 

Me found and bore within to bed, 

Unconscious as the coffined dead. 

On blackest day a cloud may lift, 

And through the rift the radiant sun 
Shine out, while nether shadows drift, 

And brilliance sits upon 
The landscape, that with laughing quiver 

Doth seem to greet the sudden light, 
And momently the brook and river 

Coruscant toss their ripples bright. 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

And thus with me : my clouded mind 
With more than wonted brightness shined 
When I revived ; I saw around 
My friends and neighbors who had found 
And borne me in with anxious care, 
And still to serve me waited there. 
Their eyes did question me, and I 
Was quick their minds to satisfy. 

And then my thoughts reviewed the years 

I lived again that solemn hour 
When I had bowed myself, in tears, 

To Mother Church's power, 
And taken vows that gave my life 

To her, for service to my kind — 
To wage with self unceasing strife, 

And keep the faith with constant mind : 



1 HE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 53 

And now I saw with vision clear 

How soon I lost that holy fear 

Which humbles man ; how youthful strength 

And comeliness had wrought at length 

With conscious pride of intellect 

To breed conceit, to bring defect 

Of prayer and penance, that no ill 

Might come to try my untried will. 

Now my temptation smote upon 

My quickened soul as not before, 
For she — her image was not gone, 

My struggle was not o^er : 
My weeks, yea months, of restlessness, 

And longing that would not be stilled, 
Had left me still in such duress 

That my destruction seemed fulfilled. 



54 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A HON. 

But j^esternight, clairvoyant, seeino^ 
And hearing her, all prudence fleeing, 
I gladly went, esteeming nought 
But that delight her presence brought. 

innocent enchantress ! thou 
Hast made me curse my sacred vow ! 

Oh ! what is earth ? Oh ! what were Heaven 
To me, from thee forever driven? 

This thought possessed me — impious thought ! 
But quick my better sense returning, 

1 groaned aloud, and suppliant sought — 
My heart remorseful burning — 

To turn aside the wrath of God, 

That now I feared as close impending ; 

I shrank from the avenging rod 

That troubled conscience saw descending. 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 55 

But now a change — the chill of night 
Had pinched my frame at dawn of light ; 
But that to fever's fire amain 
Gave place, and soon my burning brain 
Delirious throbbed, and many a day 
I raved or all unconscious lay. 
Reason dethroned, her banner furled, 
Disordered fancy roamed the world. 

And straightway, horrid, fiendish things 

Rose up to mock me in my pain ; 
And once I heard such whisperings, 

In the arch-tempter's strain, 
That I was fain to list ; he said : 
" This rack, this rage, the mind's confusion, 
This burning blood and bursting head — 

Ah ! these are life : what wild delusion 



56 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

To call it good ! The dead are blest, 
Sweet, dreamless, lasting is their rest. 
From torture dire, how soon delivered ! 
One little stroke — the bond is severed. 
Be still a moment : see that stream — 
How close it glides ! Thy maddening dream 
Can find surcease ; poor sufferer, drink ! 
Oblivion waits at Lethe's brink." 

A tremor shook my aching frame — 

My thoughts to method now returning ; 
I made a beck, th' attendant came. 

And quick some change discerning, 
He made my wish his instant care. 

At my request he placed in reach 
My dressing-case, and smiled to hear 

From me again coherent speech. 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 57 

Thereon a Spanish dagger lay— 
A gift from one now passed away — 
A class-mate I had loved ; in sight 
I kept it ; many a day and night 
It seemed to bring him to my side, 
To cheer, to counsel, or to chide. 
I joyed to see now waiting me 
This power to set the wretched free. 

He turned a moment ; quick I caught 
The poniard up ; the pointed steel 

Gleamed in the lamplight swift as thought, 
But ere my hand could deal 

The fatal blow, he seized my arm- 
Warned by the motion I had made ; 

He cried for help, and wild alarm 

Spread through the house ; strong hands essayed 



J THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

To wrest from me the deadly knife, 

But I was frenzied, and the strife 

Was as the din of one defending 

Himself from divers foes, contending 

Like Caesar's murderers, half in fear 

That they themselves the harm should bear ; 

And some I wounded, but at last 

They did disarm and bind me fast. 

I struggled with my cords till strength 

Was waned, and the physician's skill 
Did mitigate my throes ; at length 

My fury ceased, but still 
My wild imaginings awoke 

At intervals, and I communed 
With saints and devils, laughed and spoke 

As the unbridled will attuned 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

My troubled spirit. Once I stood 
Embowered as by a fragrant wood 
Where murmuring waters flowed hard by, 
And overhead was minstrelsy 
Of thousand beauteous birds ; then came 
To me, whom Tennyson to fame 
Hath newly given, fair women seven — 
Their faces glowing like the levin. 

There Helen false, the curse of Troy ; 

There Agamemnon's sacrifice ; 
And there the charms that did destroy 

Antonius strong and wise ; 
There Jephtha's Daughter and the rest — 

Some with a radiant beauty glowing. 
And pensive those whose lives were blest 

Though sorrowful ; now all bestowing 



60 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

Their looks on me ; the Rood, beholding 
My wretchedness, I felt, enfolding 
My heart, a soothing charm, for me 
They held in their sweet sympathy. 
But three were wanton : these did smile 
And laugh and sing and speak with guile, 
To lure to sin, but strength I found 
To pass from that enchanted ground. 

*" Oh ! ye are tainted, every one ! 

It is not woman such as you 
Whose wiles could cast a spell upon 

My life till late so true ! 
You're beautiful ? and boast of that ? 

The sirens they are so ; and she 
Who on the throne of Russia sat 

And reigned and lived so shamefully, 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 61 

Was glorious of form and face, 
And moved with a barbaric grace. 
Oh hence ! your beauty hath no charm 
Like her's whose ev'ry pulse is warm 
With vestal fire ; whose life is given 
To holy work ; VN^hose goal is Heaven. 
Elsewhere, ye fair, your lovers seek. 
Ye touch me not ; I was but weak." 

I spake, and my companions fled. 
Then sudden darkness fell on me — 

A gloom that filled my soul with dread- 
But when I thought to flee 

Oblivion came ; nor day nor night. 
Nor any count of time, I knew 

For weary weeks ; nor sound nor sight 
Had meaning relevant and true. 



j THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

I lived a thing of phantasy, 
But the Unreal was to me 
So real that it pierced and smote 
My sense in thousand forms ; I wot 
Of what has taught mankind to dread 
The unknown regions of the dead — 
The scenes, the pangs, the shapes of fear. 
The horror of the soul's despair ! 

One day, (they told me of the time. 

When my dread illness had gone by), 
I crossed the Styx into the clime 

That holds our destiny ; 
The boatman grim, the silent crew. 

The mournful souls aboard, ashore, 
I see them yet ! They come in view 

At night when, care and labor o'er. 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 63 

I sit and ponder man's estate, 
His deeds in life, his future fate. 
Now when that gliding barque did near 
The Unknown I^and, a sudden fear 
My sad heart seizing, straight I broke 
The spell of silence, wildly spoke 
To Charon, " O thou boatman stern. 
Why should we go ? We must return ! ' ' 

^' Mad wretch ! " he said, then stretched his hand 

A-forward : " See, we speed us thither ; 
Embarked for the mysterious strand, 

The soul that cometh hither 
Returns no more ; go to the doom 

That Rhadamanthus shall decree ; 
His throne is set." As one to whom 

Has come the dreadful certainty 



64 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

Of deep damnation, now and aye, 
Once to the shore I fled away 
To outer darkness, waiting not 
For the Great Judge to fix my lot. 
Soon came the calm of blank despair, 
Without a hope, without a fear, 
I neither sought nor shunned my kind — 
The Ego was a vacant mind. 

Nor sun nor moon we needed there, — 

The Soul, even lost, is light essential, — 
And when related minds are near, 

The vital spark, potential. 
Reveals them each to each, and" wholly — 

The form, the feature, life and thought. 
I wandered aimless, living solely 

Because " there is no death." ' Twas nought 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 65 

To me what objects met my sight. 
But lo ! my being all alight 
As with a flame, ere long, I turned 
To her for whom my heart had burned, 
For she was there, her sad face showing 
All that was in her bosom glowing, 
And there I read, ** Oh ! but for you 
This had not been ; 7ny life was true ! ' * 

She lived that thought — I saw it clear ; 

And yet she lived deep love for me ! 
She knew my guilt, yet held me here 

In her great sympathy ! 
To drag her down, then know her doom, — 

Accursed immortality ! 
The portals of this living tomb 

Ne'er to repass, — yet know for me 



}6 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

She had no plaint ! I shrieked and cried 
That rocks and mountains fall and hide 
Me from the sight of her and Heaven ! 
The cords that bound my limbs were riven, 
And forth I sprang ! I tore my hair 
And gnashed my teeth in mad despair, 
And black remorse did rack me so 
It felled me now as by a blow. 

Me then to couch and bonds returning 

The startled watchers paled to find 
That now I wept, the hot tears burning 

My pallid cheeks. My mind 
_Had lost its fury, but a wail 

Broke from my lips, uncanny, weird. 
As of a soul beyond the pale 

Of time and sense ; they stood afeard, 



THE PRIES T'S TEMPT A TION. 67 

And sore perplexed, as now I came 

To call in piteous tones her name. 

I prayed to her, as one repenting, 

Her doom with broken heart lamenting ; 

Forgetful of our fixed fate 

I cried to God to view her state — 

To know that she from sin was free, 

And woe should fall alone on me. 

And then in answer to my prayer 

Th' accusing angel came — his face 
Was turned on me ; to shrinking fear 

My pleading mood gave place : 
There was no pity in his look, 

But stern he spake, with voice appalling, 
' O wretched man. Heaven cannot brook 

A plea from lips accursed falling ! 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

Who drags one trusting soul to hell 
Must pray no more ! He must not tell 
The awful tragedy to Him, 
The Highest, and the Seraphim 
Do flee in horror from the cry ! " 
He said, and, scowling, passed on high. 
Cut off from God and tortured so, 
I shrank beneath my weight of woe. 

I felt my burdened heart was breaking. 

When hark ! a sound fell on my ear — 
A harper harping near was waking 

A strain, low, sweet, and clear ; 
It fell upon my soul as rain — 

The gentle rain — upon the land 
That long athirst and parched hath lain- 

I fervent blessed that cunning hand ! 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

In that dark realm of Death me thought 
She smiled, and that for me quick wrought 
A change as though from hell to heaven ! 
And peace and restful tone were given. 
I seemed to stand where David played 
For Saul when th' evil spirit laid 
A hand on him ; I joyed to see 
His harp had set the mad king free. 

Anon I lived once more a night 

Upon the Adriatic sea, 
In Venice fair ; the sound, the sight, 

Had come again to me : 
'Twas when, without a gondolier, 

That I might spend the midnight hour 
In dreamy thought, I floated there, 

And gave myself to reverie's power. 



70 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

Till from an open lattice fell 
Entrancing sounds that cast a spell 
On me — so witching were they, so 
A-burdened with a nameless woe : 
There was no voice, but that wild lyre 
Could speak as with a tongue of fire : 
I pulled within a shadow, near, 
That I might linger there to hear. 

I marked that 'neath her window stood 

A man who seemed young — of mold 
Apollo-like, of stature good. 

But reft of bearing bold, 
For he was weeping bitterly. 

As though his heart-strings she were sweeping. 
I could not stay, it ought not be 

That stranger view the tryst there keeping. 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 71 

My gondola I turned, then crept 
Away ; but as my course I kept 
With motion slow, that stormy strain 
Did fall into a sad refrain 
Of love and pity. That night, sleeping, 
I dreamed of two young lovers weeping — 
She o'er that harp with yearning heart, 
Though she had willed that they must part. 

But while I rested thus, and dreamed 
Of happier days, my watchers said — 

Ivow murmuring, tremulous, it seemed — 

''The Evil One is fled! 

He sleeps ; he rests ; now all is well ! " 
The player ceased, but not the charm, 

For blessed slumber on me fell ; 

Nor sense of guilt nor thought of harm 



72 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

Was with me on the morrow morn 
When I awaked, for hope was born 
That I might rise again, and strive 
A new, a nobler life, to live. 
But when I pondered on my state, 
Weak, weary as I was, my fate 
Did seem so cheerless that anew 
My fever came, my frenzy grew. 

Yet but a little space — again 

A-near, but still beyond my sight, 
The player played a heavenly strain — 

It thrilled me with delight. 
And now she sang : her voice was sweet 

As hers who by the shepherd's tents 
The kids doth feed ; the words were meet 

To soothe to rest disordered sense. 




" ^~lnd ]i07i' she sang: her voiee rvas siveef 
As hers ccho by the shepherd's feiits 
The kids doth feed; * •+• * " 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 73 

Clear as the mountain maid doth sing 
On Tyrol's hills ; soft as the ring 
Of silver bells at eventide 
The sacred altar steps beside. 
Her voice was sad, but with its sadness 
There came to me foretaste of gladness, 
For high resolve was born that hour, 
And woke in me a sense of power. 

My heart was tuned to ecstasy — 

I seemed to hear what gave me joy 
In earliest manhood, wandering free. 

Or when a happy boy : 
The rustic's reed, the roundelay 

Of song-birds in the dewy morn. 
And that dear voice at close of day, 

My mother's to her only born. 



74 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

I walked again by Gallilee 
Where wandering once, I chanced to see 
Some Hebrew maidens who did sing 
The triumphs of the Shepherd King. 
I slept again — how sweet that rest ! 
My frenzy gone and calm my breast ! 
Next day she sat beside me playing, 
And thus the harp and voice were saying 

" O weary soul ! rest and be glad. 

For God is good ; the bruised reed 

He will not break ; thy heart so sad 
Must turn to him in time of need : 

The thorn that pricks the Christian's side 

May bring a glory else denied. 

** O fainting soul ! look up and see — 
The world is full of life and beauty 
To him who through infirmity 

Can gather strength for ev'ry duty : 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. ' 75 

The Cross that willing shoulders bear 
May bring the peace of Heaven here. 

* O earnest soul ! arise and take 

Thy burden up ; the light of God 
Will shine upon thy heart and wake 

To life and joy ; th' avenger's rod 
Shall pass when thou hast set thy face 
Steadfastly — trusting in His grace.*' 

There was no need that I should speak — 

She knew my secret ; but I told 
How I had loved her, and how weak 

I was, how uncontrolled 
My will when I had sought to still 

The yearnings of my heart for her, 
And solemn vows to Heaven fulfill. 

The trembling sigh, the falling tear, 



76 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

I noted as I told my story — 
They spoke her heart, but with a glory 
As of the Holy Virgin, shone 
Her face when with inspiring tone 
She said : "I have my work ; go thou 
To thine ; redeem that sacred vow ; 
And at the last the God of love 
Will give us each to each above ; 

And this is Heaven's betrothal kiss — " 

She pressed her lips to mine, and passed 
From out the room. One thrill of bliss — 

The die of fate was cast : 
Kmaciate, trembly as I was, 

I rose and stretched my feeble frame 
And straightway now as one who has 

A new-found sense, to me there came 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 77 

A sudden change, a vital glow, 

And from that hour my strength did grow, 

And with it grew a force of will 

To master wandering thoughts, to still 

The voice that tempted yet ; I prayed 

That hence my pathway might be laid 

Where I could wage unceasing strife 

For lowly souls in search of life. 

O Mary, Mother ! when I speak 

Of that far time, I seem to see 
The face that found me vain and weak — 

It comes again to me, 
But not as then ; 'tis now a light 

That cheers me as the beacon star 
That greets the mariner at night. 

His home, his haven, still afar. 



"8 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

O Mater Misericordiae ! 
Forgive me if I sometimes sigh 
To feel myself so far from shore, 
And wish th' eventful voyage o'er ; 
Forgive me if I often trace 
In hers thine own angelic face ! 
Thy devotee, thy daughter, she — 
My thought of her is faith to thee. 

Hark — note that bell ! how late the hour ! 

And my sad story holds you yet ; 
But bide till I can hasten o'er 

The time since last we met : 
'Tis two score years and ten, the while 

On every sea, in calm and storm, 
I've sailed ; I've lived in long exile 

With those who would have wrought me harm 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 79 

But that the eye of God did hold 

Me in His sight, His arms enfold ; 

And ever as my need befel, 

His strength, His grace, sufficed me well ; 

And ever as I sought to preach 

Th' eternal Word, and eke to teach 

The way of life, my soul did find 

A joy in service to my kind. 

And ever, as the great Swede taught. 

When I was striving to impart 
All good I had received, it wrought 

Divinely on my heart, 
As fire that warmth and light doth spread 

Is none the less for what it gives, 
My life glowed out ; it even fed 

On what it gave, till my soul lives 



80 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA HON. 

As in a glow of quiet joy 
That sweetens ev'ry hour's employ ; 
And I do strive to render praise 
By service in the several ways 
That open into him who feels 
The sacred influx that reveals 
How glorious life to every man 
Who shapes it on some noble plan ! 

O friend ! some men there are who have 

One talent, one — a single one ; 
To them life means but little, save 

That labor must be done. 
They question not but how to win 

Their daily bread in humble toil ; 
No fields of joy they enter in, 

Nor know the fiery soul's turmoil. 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

Still, they have pleasures, and if true 
To duties set for them to do, 
There is reserved for them in Heaven 
A better life than earth hath given- 
Yea, if they strive, with feeble light, 
To keep the narrow path of Right, 

(Our Father sees), they shall not miss 

Abundant entrance into bliss. 

But Robert, thou— hast thou not five? 

Or mayhap ten ? Oh ! strive to learn 
What are thy powers, if thou would'stlive 

Life's truest meed to earn ; 
Or if Jehovah's chastening hand 

Thou would'st not feel, go straightway gird 
Thine armor on and take thy stand 

Fore something that hath eretime stirred 



81 



I THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 

Thy childish thought. How fearful are 
The gifts of God ! If thou would'st mar 
Thy being, bury them ; but know 
That thou to Him who gave shalt show 
Why that has idle, useless, lain 
Which should have brought to others gain 
Abuse them, hide them — scorpion stings 
Shall drive thee unto nobler things. 



Ill 



III. 

FINALE. 

In Robert's heart, he blessed the priest, 

But silent rose and went away ; 
He sought his bed and sank to rest, 

But aye through Fancy's play 
In dreams, he saw the ways of men. 

Their woes, their wants ; and eke a light 
Not of the earth was present when 

He saw some toiler through the Night 



; THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

Of Time, whose joy it was to live 
That others might be blest ; to give 
Sight to the blind, feet to the lame ; 
To save from crime, to lift from shame ; 
To wipe away the mourner's tear. 
And aching, breaking hearts to cheer. 
And then a passing spirit said 
' Who liveth to himself is dead ! " 

All after days this questioner 

Who the good man of God had sought 
In cynic mood, in doubt, in fear, 

And misanthropic thought, — 
He made his years of life a time 

In which to shape himself for Heaven, 
By right employ, by steps that climb 

O'er obstacles; and aye the leaven 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 87 

Of high intent did give each deed, 

Howe'er obscure, the fullest meed 

Of growth, of strength, of joy that springs 

Perennial in the soul that brings 

Its gift of service, gift of light 

To those who walk as in the night 

Of nescience, suffering — the great throng 

Who struggle in the grasp of wrong. 

One Sabbath morn — three years had passed 

Since he had heard the father's story — 
He sat in church ; his eyes were cast 

Upon the altai's glory 
Of incense, images, and lights 

And on the old priest serving there — 
A scene that hearts devout invites 

To sacred reverie and prayer. 



i THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 

The father knelt, his voice arose 
Clear, reverent, and sweet to those 
Who long had heard its tender tone 
Of love and pity, and had known 
The smile of that benignant face 
Where every virtue lent its grace ; 
Their loving confidence it wrought 
To tune to worship every thought. 

But lo ! came silence like a spell — 

For sudden he had ceased to speak ; 
His face upon the cushion fell — 

They thought him only weak, 
Or that emotion overcame. 

And even irreverent heads were bent 
As though the sound of Sacred Name 

Just parted from his lips, had sent 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

An instant thrill through all ; and now 
Through open window, sweeping low, 
A turtle dove flew in and stood 
A-top the sacred desk, and cooed 
As to its mate, then circled round 
The kneeling form, and up, and found 
High in the altar's dome a way 
Into the bright and open day. 

Some moments thus ; then whispers broke 
The quietude : " He is so still ! " 

An altar-boy, alarmed, up-spoke, 
" Oh ! come ; he seemeth ill ! " 

Then all arose from bended knee, 
As by one impulse ; one man said 

' Be quiet, friends, and I will see " — 

Then quickly cried " Oh ! he is dead !" 



90 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 

Silence and stillness for space — 

Then each one sank into his place, 

As though the simoom's breath had swept 

Athwart ; and so they sat and wept 

Till strong hands bore him hence, and left 

The great church as a child bereft 

Of father, only friend, and guide — 

None loved, none trusted so, beside. 

That week, as robed for sepulture 

He lay, and those who mourned him cast 
Once more a look upon the pure 

And saintly face, at last 
Came one, a veiltd stranger, slow 

With trembling step, and kneeled beside : 
She drew her veil, and, moaning low, 

She kissed him fervently and cried 



THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 91 

" O faithful unto death, I come ! " 
Then weeping rose and left the room, 
And drove, they knew not whither then, 
But Robert told them all, and when, 
Full soon, they learned that she was dead, 
His people reverently said 

"This day to him his love is given — 
O sweet companionship in Heaven." 



Frankfort, Ky., 1893. 



